


Deal With It

by darkrose



Series: Art of the Deal [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Breathplay, Community: kink_bingo, Daddy Kink, M/M, Mirror Universe, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/pseuds/darkrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pike doesn't care if Kirk sluts around. He does care if he gets caught doing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deal With It

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This fic is set in the Star Trek Mirror Universe, which is a dystopic version of the Prime Star Trek universe that includes sexual violence and consent issues. This particular fic includes breathplay, pain play, face slapping, and Daddy kink.
> 
> **Notes:** For this version of the Mirrorverse, I'm sticking with canon as presented in Enterprise and TOS. Instead of following the DS9 version, however, I'm branching off after the TOS episode "Mirror, Mirror" and mostly going with the Mirrorverse history from Diane Duane's _Dark Mirror_.

Pike knows what they say about him. That he lacks subtlety. That he's the Empire's claymore when a stilletto between the ribs just doesn't send a strong enough message. That he's vicious when cornered, and that he's a brutal sadist who has a habit of breaking his toys.

The only thing no one ever says about Christopher Pike is that he's stupid. Gloria Pike may have been a goddamn crazy artist, but she didn't raise any fools out there in the desert.

Every so often, though, he wonders if grabbing Jim Kirk out of that alley wasn't necessarily the smartest move he'd ever made. He's had plenty of boys--and girls, for that matter--but none of them have gotten under his skin the way Kirk has.

It bothers him.

In a way, that makes it almost a relief when Kirk fucks up--as he's done in spectacular fashion this time--because Chris doesn't need to think about What It All Means. He doesn't need an excuse to lay into the obnoxious little brat because Kirk's his boy and because he can.

He shoves Kirk into the apartment ahead of him. The second the door slides shut, Chris decks Kirk hard enough to make the boy stagger, following up by backhanding him across the mouth.

"Let me make something clear, boy," he growls. "I could have left you in Iowa, let those assholes mess up your pretty face so bad you'd be lucky if someone would let you blow them for a beer afterwards. But I didn't."

Chris grabs the front of Kirk's shirt and pulls him close. "I brought you here because I thought you were wasted on the shipyard scum. But if you'd rather spread your legs for half the city of San Francisco than becoming a Starfleet officer, just let me know and I'll get the word out that you're no longer mine."

It's kind of gratifying to see Kirk turn pale at that. Despite his behavior at times, he's not stupid, and he knows damn well that he's if he's not Pike's boy, then he's fair game for anyone who's got a grudge against him and wants a shot at his ass. After a year at the Academy, that's a long list.

He lets go, and Kirk falls to his knees, looking up with that half-resentful, half-challenging expression that's a guaranteed turn-on for Chris.

"So here's how it's going to work," he says. "From here on out, if there's someone you want to fuck you, ask me first, and I'll decide if it's worth my while to let them have you, got it?"

"Yes, Sir." Kirk scoots forward and rubs his face against Chris' crotch. "It's kind of hard to keep up, though, you know? I'm never sure if you want to be my pimp or my daddy."

Chris can't help but laugh, especially because Kirk sounds really put out. "What I want now is for you to get that pretty mouth on my dick." When Kirk reaches for his fly, Chris cuffs the side of his head. "You know better than that."

Kirk grins--the boy is incorrigible--and uses his teeth to get Chris' pants undone. Chris only just manages not to groan the moment he feels Kirk's hot, wet mouth on him. Kirk's got enough of an attitude without Chris telling him what an incredible cocksucker he is.

He starts off slow and teasing, licking just around the head of Chris' dick, probably because he knows much that drives Chris crazy. Chris isn't in the mood for that right now, so he grabs Kirk's head to hold him still while he fucks his mouth.

"God, you were fucking made for this, weren't you, boy?" It takes an effort to keep his voice steady, but it's worth it for the look that Kirk gives him, half resentment and half hunger. "It's never been about the money; you do it because you like being used." Chris buries a hand in Kirk's hair and twists until the whimpering noises start sounding a little more like pain. He uses his foot to shove Kirk away.

"Strip off and get on the bed--hands and knees." Kirk obeys, slinking over to the bed. Chris grins when he hears the hiss of pain as Kirk pulls his shirt over his head. Once Kirk's in position Chris climbs up behind him and takes a moment to admire Sulu's work. He scrapes a fingernail along one of the welts, making Kirk arch his back and cry out; he'd managed to keep from doing that earlier, which was pretty damn impressive.

"Definitely have to get Sulu in here," he tells Kirk. "I want to see what he can do with a cane, have him give you a nice set of stripes. Would you like that?"

Kirk groans. "Yes, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, as though the admission hurts. Chris laughs at him and strokes his hair gently.

"Of course you would. Such a greedy little whore."

Kirk looks over his shoulder at Chris, one side of his mouth turned up in a twisted grin. "And that's exactly how you like me, isn't it? Sir."

Chris slaps Kirk's ass. "You better believe it." He bends down and sinks his teeth into the back of Kirk's neck. "Just don't forget whose whore you are, boy." Kirk gasps, which Chris takes as his cue to grab Kirk's hips and shove in hard.

"Everyone saw you up there, getting hard when Sulu was beating the shit out of you," he says. "Everyone in Starfleet knows exactly how much of a slut you are for getting hurt."

Kirk growls in response, which Chris files away for later. For now, he just smacks the back of Kirk's head.

"Don't you dare get an attitude with me, bitch," he snarls. "Get it through that thick skull of yours--you're _mine_, but only as long as you're useful. Give me any more trouble or make me look bad again...." Chris wraps a hand around Kirk's throat. "I could just squeeze a little, right here...maybe your mother would care, though I wouldn't bet on it. No one else would give a shit."

Kirk goes still underneath him. His voice is only a little shaky when he says, "I get it, Sir. I...I'm sorry."

"That's my good bitch," Chris tells him, giving his throat one last squeeze before moving his hand down to Kirk's dick.

"Why am I not surprised you were getting off on that?" Chris says, chuckling. "Goddamn, boy--is there anything that doesn't make you hard? Go on then--tell me what you want. Beg me for it."

Chris half expects Kirk to balk a little, but for once, he does as he's told. "Please Sir--Daddy--please fuck me, give it to me hard, please..."

That's what really does it. Fucking Winona's son into the mattress while he calls Chris "Daddy" and begs for it....the only way this could be any better would be if his ship was finished and he had Kirk on his lap while he sat in the captain's chair.

"Yeah...that's it, slut--I want to hear you say it." He stops moving, still holding onto Kirk's hips, watching him arch his back and hiss like an annoyed cat. "If you want my dick, then you're going to have to ask nicely."

"_Please_, fuck, you're killing me here, fuck me, Daddy, please, I need it so bad, please Sir...."

"Good boy," Chris gasps. He doesn't think he's going to make it much longer, so he starts slamming into Kirk hard and fast. As soon as he reaches for Kirk's dick, the kid starts whining, a high-pitched keen that's better to Chris than a whole bottle of Romulan ale. If nothing else, Kirk has learned not to come until--or unless--Chris tells him he can.

"Daddy, please--I'm so close; please let me come," Kirk begs.

Chris bends down so he can whisper right in Kirk's ear. "Now, boy. Give it to me." Kirk damn near screams, thrashing underneath Chris like a wild animal as he comes all over Chris' hand.

"Good boy." He pulls out; Kirk looks over his shoulder and glares indignantly at him. "Eyes down, slut," Chris snaps. Sitting back on his heels, he jacks himself off with the hand still slick with his boy's come.

"Whose whore are you?" he demands.

There's only one right answer to that, and Kirk gives it to him. "Yours, Daddy." If he sounds a little too breathless, well, Chris knows when he's being played, and at the moment, he doesn't care.

"Mine!" he snarls as he comes, shooting all over the whip marks on Kirk's back.

Chris doesn't always have Kirk spend the night--he doesn't think there's anything Kirk would gain from killing him, not yet--but he decides he wants everyone to see Kirk coming out of his rooms in the morning. Besides, there are few better ways to start the day than to have that skilled mouth around his dick before the rest of him is fully awake.

Kirk's restless, though, tossing and turning after Chris turns out the lights; Chris doesn't think it's just because his back hurts.

"If you've got something to say, then say it and settle down, or you'll be sleeping on the floor," he says.

Kirk goes still and quiet then. Finally he says, "I'm screwed now, right? What you said earlier, about how everybody saw me getting off on that--Starfleet's never going to make me a captain."

"Listen, boy," Chris tells him, "Yes, everyone saw you get hard from being beaten. But everyone in that room either has been or will be standing in your place. Nobody gets through the Academy without having at least one date with the Discipline Squad."

Chris wraps his arm around Kirk's neck. "What they're going to remember is that you stood there and you fucking took it. You didn't scream and you didn't break, and that's what counts." He pauses. "I brought you here because I thought you had it in you to be a better captain than your father--or your mother. Don't you dare prove me wrong."

"No, Sir--I won't." Chris can hear the smile, so he's not surprised in the least when Kirk adds, "I'll make you proud of me, Daddy, I promise."

"You'd better," Chris growls, smacking Kirk's head. Maybe he's going soft, but he's not a hundred percent sure he could take the kid out--and he doesn't really want to test it. Not yet.


End file.
